


midnight sumo

by thunderylee



Category: Johnny's WEST
Genre: Canon Universe, Multi, Orgy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2019-01-15 17:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Kotaki bets he can identify them all by touch.





	midnight sumo

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for shiritori.

On the couch, he stays still. Listening, waiting, willing. Having his sight taken away enhances the rest of his senses, enlightening him to the noises all around and the variety of scents that mingle before him, a prelude to the taste and touch he has yet to experience.

“Just a little longer, kitten,” someone whispers. “It’s almost midnight.”

Clearly that one isn’t trying for anonymity, but Kotaki wouldn’t expect any less from him. In fact, he bets he can identify them all while blindfolded, which is how this whole excursion unfolded to begin with. Originally he had just meant it in an innocent way, but nothing in their group stays innocent for very long.

Hence the countdown, because Junta refuses to touch Kotaki until he’s legal and now they’re mere seconds away from his eighteenth birthday. Kotaki feels like he’s waited his whole life for this moment, comparable to debuting or his first proper solo. Being unable to see what’s coming just has him even more excited, his nerves already sparking with anticipation that is apparently visible since Junta had felt the need to give him assurance.

They’re not all there, but Kotaki understands. Ryuusei is filming his drama, of course, and Shige’s always busy. It’s okay; there will be plenty of time for him to celebrate with them. He’s technically already celebrated with Shige anyway, at least in this context. This leaves the other four, which is more than Kotaki thinks he’s ready for, eight hands and four mouths all over him in three, two, one…

“Happy birthday, Non-chan,” whispers chorus in surround sound.

He braces himself for the first touch and still jumps when it happens, fingertips along his face and that’s definitely Junta. Junta is slow and gentle and a little sadistic, having no problem making anyone beg and plead and even cry for it. Kotaki gasps at the contact and his breath is instantly stolen, also by Junta, whose lips he would know anywhere despite never tasting them until now.

Junta kisses him hard, claiming his lips and then his tongue with a single flick of his own, and Kotaki groans as he tilts his head and starts to lift his hands to reach out for whatever he might find. One manages to grab onto Junta’s shoulder but the other lands on someone else, an arm that moves closer like it had just been waiting for permission, and Kotaki almost scoffs at the Kamiyama’s uncharacteristic politeness after all of these years.

A small hand lands on his knee and Kotaki grabs the wrist, yanking it closer because he’s done waiting. Kamiyama gasps and Kotaki smirks at being right, swallowing down a chuckle from Junta because he knows _exactly_ why Kotaki’s making that expression during their kiss, fingers threading through his hair as if petting him for a job well done.

Arms wrap around him from behind that can belong to no one but Hamada, who is almost as tall as Kotaki and strong enough to make Kotaki lean backwards just from the embrace. Hamada kisses the back of his neck and Kotaki moans openly, falling out of Junta’s mouth as his head tilts back, two more pairs of lips immediately attaching to both sides of his throat and Kotaki shudders from the triple attack.

Hamada tugs on Kotaki’s shirt and Kotaki’s arms lift right up, Junta and Kamiyama’s hands already on his chest before Hamada has even pulled the garment off. Kamiyama traces the curves and dips while Junta goes right for the nipples, making Kotaki arch when he pinches both nubs and leans down to lick at one. It all feels so good, but there’s still someone missing.

“‘kito,” Kotaki mumbles, the first syllable not making it all the way out. “Where are you…”

A low chuckle vibrates his nipple and Kotaki moans again, fisting Junta’s hair to keep him right where he is. Junta sucks a little harder, nibbling a bit and Kotaki’s hips snap up toward nothing, the friction in his jeans both relieving and frustrating at the same time. His other hand is still gripping onto Kamiyama’s wrist, which moves as he teases Kotaki’s waistline just below the belly button, clearly more confident in his actions.

Kotaki should have expected it, because Akito always makes a grand entrance, but the noise that tears from his lungs when a big hand gropes him right between the legs would be embarrassing if Kotaki were a shameful person. Instead, Kotaki pushes toward it, desperate for relief after all of this teasing, and Akito rubs him so pointedly that all Kotaki can do is moan and writhe beneath them all.

It’s Hamada who finally opens his pants, mouth moving up to Kotaki’s ear and sucking on the lobe. “You should let me pierce your ear sometime,” Hamada hisses, and Kotaki nods as much as he can with two other people latched onto his neck, because right now he would let anyone do anything to him.

The fourth mouth descends upon his abdomen as his jeans are pushed down, followed by his underwear, and everyone touches him at once. It’s so much that he can’t keep track of it all, just that there are eight hands and four mouths and his thighs spread on their own, held up by Junta and Kamiyama on either side while Hamada settles behind him.

Akito’s fingers wrap around Kotaki’s cock and Kotaki chokes on his next breath, his head falling to the side where he’s pulled into Kamiyama’s mouth, kissing him like it’s a means to release tension. Then Akito licks at the tip and Kamiyama’s drinking down Kotaki’s noises, which intensify when a slick finger slides down the crack of his ass.

Now Hamada’s the one moaning as he circles Kotaki’s clenching rim, relaxing him enough to dip inside. “You’re gonna let me have you first, right?”

Junta growls into his neck like he doesn’t approve of that one bit, but Kotaki feels around until he finds something hard and Junta’s noises become more favorable. “If you make it worth it,” he answers around Kamiyama’s tongue, smirking at Hamada’s scoff before Hamada’s finger pushes all the way inside him and it’s all he can do to breathe.

Akito’s still teasing his cock with light sucks and kisses; even if he hadn’t already identified them all, Akito’s mouth is a one of a kind, Kotaki’s body pushing back as much as it can in its restraints. Being held up by three of his group members gives him an odd sense of weightlessness, gravity pulling him down onto Hamada’s fingers and into Akito’s mouth that keep giving him a little more.

One Hamada has him stretched enough, he easily replaces his fingers with his cock and Kotaki cries out as Hamada thrusts up into him from below. He squeezes Junta even tighter and feels Kamiyama grind against his other side, a harmony of moans joining his as Hamada fucks him hard.

“Non-chan,” says a fifth voice, one that Kotaki wasn’t expecting, and it takes Kotaki a second to recognize the digital distortion. “Are you feeling good right now?”

“Shige,” Kotaki gasps, falling out of Kamiyama’s mouth to turn toward the sound. “I wish you were here.”

“Me too,” Shige says. “I can see you, though. You look so hot like that, with Hama-chan filling you over and over and Akito’s big mouth on your cock.”

“I’ll show you a big mouth,” Akito grumbles, retaliating by swallowing Kotaki’s length in one gulp and Kotaki’s next moan is so loud that it hurts a little.

“I’m touching myself,” Shige goes on, and sure enough his voice is hitched. “Pretending it’s me fucking you instead of him. You remember, right? You felt so good, Non-chan.”

“He does feel good,” Hamada agrees, his thrusts starting to falter as he grabs onto Kotaki’s hips more roughly. “I’m close.”

“I’m next,” Akito announces, giving Kotaki’s cock a few more sucks before Hamada shudders and sighs in Kotaki’s ear. “Switch me places, bro.”

“Let me fucking breathe first, _bro_ ,” Hamada grumbles, and Kotaki’s left empty and untouched while the others shuffle around.

“Hey,” Akito says, his voice much closer as a different pair of strong arms embrace him from behind. “You good to go or do you need a minute?”

“Do it,” Kotaki orders, and just like that Akito is inside him and grunting into his hair. This time it’s more like Kotaki sitting on his lap, giving Kotaki more freedom to move on his own and ride the way he wants to. A hand wraps around him, Kamiyama’s, stroking him firmly enough to make him tighten around Akito, pulling a high-pitched noise from both of them.

He’s pulled into someone’s mouth and it’s definitely Hamada, holding his face with both hands as he kisses Kotaki deeply, slower than anything else that’s happening right now. Kamiyama’s hand is joined by a pair of big lips and Kotaki’s fingers find Junta’s hair again, urging him to do more than just tease because he’s impatient.

Junta obliges, taking Kotaki wholly into his mouth and Akito thrusts harder, hands tightening on Kotaki’s thighs to hit him deeper and Kotaki lets out the biggest whine in the history of whines when Junta pulls off just as fast as he’d sucked him down.

“Fuck,” Akito gasps, fingers digging into Kotaki’s skin as he snaps his hips a few more times, then stills. Kotaki feels him come and hums in pleasure, rocking a few more times before Akito stops him.

“My turn?” Kamiyama asks, and Kotaki just nods because he doesn’t care anymore. Kamiyama lies down in front of him and Kotaki easily mounts him, feeling the third cock of the night slip inside him at a much better angle to ride.

Kamiyama is loud, making Kotaki move faster because he likes how that sounds, even if only one pair of hands is on him now. Hamada and Akito are probably curled up together on the side, watching, basking in the aftermath of their orgasms while Kamiyama pushes up to meet all of Kotaki’s downward grinds.

“Non-chan,” Shige breathes from the nearby laptop, and Kotaki gasps because he’d forgotten Shige was there, sort of. “You look so good, I can’t wait anymore.”

Shige makes a strained noise and it has Kotaki whimpering, wanting release himself, but he knows he’s not going to get it until he gets through one more. Junta’s barely touching him, rubbing up along one side and kissing his neck while his hands splay all over Kotaki’s chest.

“Soon, kitten,” Junta whispers, and Kotaki falls forward to really ride Kamiyama as hard as he can.

“Come already,” Kotaki hisses, and Kamiyama wails even louder.

“Shit, okay,” Kamiyama gasps, grabbing onto Kotaki’s hips to pull him deeper. “Oh my god, _Non-chan_.”

“Finally,” Kotaki hisses, turning around and wrapping his arms and legs around Junta. “I’m so glad Ryuusei and Shige were busy. There’s no way I could make it through all of you.”

Junta chuckles low in his throat, pressing a long kiss to Kotaki’s lips before laying him down onto his back and covering Kotaki’s body with his own. “I’m gonna make you come without touching you.”

Kotaki moans as Junta enters him, his legs pushed up to his chest so Junta can press close to him. His fingers touch Junta’s bare back and he claws a little, urging Junta to go harder, deeper, faster, until Junta is pounding Kotaki into the mattress, his soft groans tickling Kotaki’s throat. Junta angles him with both hands and Kotaki’s next noise surprises himself as Junta grazes that spot inside him that makes him jerk, now clinging onto Junta’s back while his cock barely gets any friction between their bellies.

“Damn, Jun-chan,” Akito purrs, and Kotaki can feel Junta smiling against his skin, pleased with the show he’s putting on.

“Are you close?” Junta whispers, and Kotaki nods so hard that he almost throws out his neck, his body rolling up to take in Junta right where he wants him. “Come with me, okay? Right… _now_.”

Kotaki arches and explodes beneath him, orgasm shaking him from head to toe, his body tightening so much that he feels Junta’s cock twitch inside him. The world stops for a while, but Kotaki’s in no rush to go back, riding out the waves of pleasure with Junta’s weight on top of him. Three more hands reach out to touch him, making him tingle even more as he tries to embrace all of them at once, very aware of whose arm is looped around his and whose nose is pressed into his neck. Even when the blindfold is removed, he doesn’t need to open his eyes.

“I won,” Kotaki says breathlessly, making no effort to move from the bottom of the dogpile.


End file.
